


for the greater good;

by kinneyb



Series: first times [14]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (but will be fixed in next installment), Heavy Angst, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 11:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: “But you can’t!” Geralt snapped again, and the words stung, like an arrow through the heart.Jaskier felt like they were worlds apart.“I’m sorry,” he whispered, meaning it. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean to…”Geralt laughed, bitter. “Almost die?”/Jaskier almost dies, and Geralt makes a difficult decision. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: first times [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579837
Comments: 34
Kudos: 1241





	for the greater good;

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING:   
> this is pure ANGST with a sad ending but it will be fixed in the next installment so  
> dont hate me too much <3
> 
> follow me on twitter @ queermight

Jaskier pouted, crossing his arms and stomping his foot like a petulant child. Cirilla was standing to his left, reasonably more calm. “You’re not _seriously_ leaving me here,” he whined, looking at Geralt with pleading eyes. “I - I can help!”

“How?” Yennefer asked from behind Geralt, not unkindly. “Jaskier, you’re human.”

He had gotten over his insecurities about that, seriously, but the words still stung. Geralt must’ve noticed because he wrapped him up in his arms, stroking a hand down his back.

“We’re running out of money,” he said. “We have no other choice.”

Jaskier sighed. He got a whiff of Geralt - freshly clean from a bath, smelling of lavender and oats. “I know,” he conceded. They’d been traveling for months on Yennefer’s coins, but they were finally dwindling. Geralt had discussed with Yennefer taking up a few jobs, made even easier with her assistance, and she’d agreed. “Just - I wish I could help.”

Geralt pulled back and gripped his shoulders. “You _are_ helping,” he said.

“He’s right,” Yennefer said, stepping forward. “You’re keeping an eye on Ciri.”

He looked at her. “Right, because the magic child really needs _my_ protecting.”

“Perhaps not,” Yennefer said, honest as ever. She smiled down at Cirilla. “But I think she appreciates the company.”

Jaskier looked down at her, too, and his heart warmed when she took his hand, squeezing. “Okay,” he mumbled, looking back up. “Just… be safe, okay? Look out for each other.”

“Jaskier,” Cirilla said, following after him. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” She took quiet footsteps as advised by Jaskier. “Don’t you think Geralt and Yen will be angry?”

He peeked around a tree. “ _Aha!_ ” he exclaimed softly, turning on his heels. “Found ‘em.” He gestured her closer and she peered around the tree, too, spotting Geralt and Yennefer a few feet away, wrestling with the monster. It was an ugly thing, body covered in fur and fangs.

Cirilla frowned. “Looks like they don’t need much help.”

Jaskier frowned, too, because she had a point. Geralt and Yennefer were a great team, working around each other flawlessly. He almost felt jealous before promptly pushing that feeling away, trusting now that Geralt truly wanted him and Yennefer would never betray him in that way.

“Okay,” he grumbled, admitting defeat, turning away. “Come on.”

Cirilla opened her mouth, eyes widening, but she was too late. Jaskier heard it, first, before he felt any of the pain. The sound of skin ripping and a shriek, decidedly not of the human variety, then Cirilla’s shriek, which followed shortly after. He took a few steps forward, stumbling, and looked down at the gaping wound in his stomach.

He fell to the ground and that’s when the pain set in, all-consuming. Jaskier vomited, his throat burning. He realized, in that moment, he wasn’t so afraid of dying - he was afraid of _leaving_ Geralt and Cirilla and, fuck, even Yennefer.

Cirilla was at his side in seconds, clutching his hand in her little ones. “Jaskier, please don’t - _Geralt!_ ” she shouted, and Jaskier swore he could feel the ground shaking underneath him. “Yennefer!”

Jaskier’s vision was blackening. He took a shaky breath and listened. He heard Geralt’s footsteps and somehow knew it was him without even looking - not that he’d see very much through all the fuzzy black.

“Cirilla, what - I don’t - what _happened?_ ”

He’d never heard Geralt stutter over his words before, not like that.

Jaskier hmmed. He felt a hand on his back, inches away from the wound. He knew that hand. He _loved_ that hand. He heard Yennefer defeat the monster and cheered internally. A job well done, even if he couldn’t feel his legs or his arms or, well, anything. “G - Geralt,” he gasped.

Yennefer rushed over - he could hear her footsteps. “Geralt, we need to - ”

She stopped abruptly. Jaskier wondered why, probably something to do with Geralt, he presumed. Geralt leaned down, close, and he could barely see him through his fading vision. “Jaskier, I - talk to me.” His hand twitched on his back. “What is it?”

“It… it’s okay,” he slurred. “It doesn’t hurt.”

He saw the hurt on Geralt’s face and didn’t understand it. He wasn’t in pain - that was a good thing, right? “Yen,” he said, full of emotion.

“Okay,” she replied. “Okay, fuck, um. Can you lift him?”

Geralt grunted and gently jostled Jaskier, slipping his arms underneath the length of his body. Jaskier didn’t mind - he was getting tired, anyway.

“Jaskier,” he heard Yennefer saying, “don’t you _dare_ fall asleep on us, hear me?”

He hummed, softly. He knew Yennefer would probably be mad, but… sleep sounded really, _really_ good, so he waited one, two, three seconds, making sure it was safe, before he closed his eyes.

Jaskier looked around. He was in a dark room and he was… weirdly content, not happy. _Content_. Glancing down, he touched his stomach, lightly, and realized he was no longer hurt. He wondered, briefly, if Yennefer had saved him. Not for the first time.

_“Will he be okay? Fuck, he has to be okay, Yen, I can’t - ”_

Jaskier looked around. “Geralt?” he asked the empty room.

_“I’m trying my fucking best! Give me room!”_

And that was, undeniably, Yennefer, snapping on him.

Jaskier blinked, confused. “Hello?” he called, spinning, once, in a slow circle. “Wh - what’s going on?” He stumbled forward and realized, then, that there was no end to the room. He walked and walked but he never reached a wall or a door or an end.

His heart lurched, and the content feeling was gone, replaced with fear.

“Geralt? Geralt, can - can you hear me?” he yelled. His eyes stung with tears. “Yennefer? Cirilla?” Jaskier took a shaky breath, barely noticed his hands were trembling. “Please,” he begged. “Please, _please_ , I - I want to go _home_.”

“ _He’s bleeding_.” Geralt’s voice. “ _Yen, can’t you stop it?_ ”

“ _I’m trying!_ ” she said again, and for once she sounded unsure of herself.

Jaskier felt a pull, sudden and sharp, dragging him forward. Jaskier put his hands out in front of him, protectively.

“Please,” he begged, closing his eyes. “ _Please_.”

Jaskier sat up with a sharp gasp, nearly colliding heads with Yennefer. She stumbled back a few steps and stared at him in shock. Jaskier only realized Geralt was in the room when he heard him.

“Jaskier,” he said, warming every inch of Jaskier. Later, he would put in a song: _his sweet voice, calling my name, brought me back to life._ Weirdly, it would end up being one of his more truthful lyrics.

He looked over at him and smiled shakily. “Surprise,” he said. “I’m not dead.”

He’d been stabbed by the monster - he knew that much - and Yennefer had worked on him for four days. Jaskier heard the news and immediately looked at the sorceress with newfound fondness.

“Come here,” he said, and she stepped closer, a tight, pinched expression on her face.

Jaskier hugged her, tight, and she slowly hugged him back. “I’m glad you’re not dead,” she sighed, burying her face in his hair.

“Me too,” he said, muffled by their closeness.

Yennefer left after that, leaving a few vials with them. “Keep taking one every hour on the dot, okay? I don’t care how you feel, do it.”

Then it was just the two of them. Geralt was uncharacteristically quiet, even by his standards. Jaskier stretched out, wincing at the pain, and gently nudged him with his foot.

“Get up here,” he said, scooting over.

Geralt stared down at his hands, still as a rock.

Jaskier frowned. “Hey,” he said, “you know _I_ was the one who was stabbed, right?”

“I know!” he snapped, startling the bard. Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know,” he repeated, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. “Jaskier, what the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

He looked down. “I - I just wanted to help,” he argued weakly.

“But you _can’t!_ ” Geralt snapped again, and the words stung, like an arrow through the heart. He sighed and stood up, sitting gingerly on the bed, keeping a few inches between them.

Jaskier felt like they were worlds apart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, meaning it. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean to…”

Geralt laughed, bitter. “Almost _die?_ ”

Jaskier had no answer for that. He picked at the wool blanket. Geralt sighed, closing his eyes again. They were both silent. Finally, Geralt grabbed one of the vials. “Here,” he said gruffly.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, accepting the vial and unscrewing the lid. He drank it.

They were both silent again after that.

“I lied,” Geralt said finally, breaking the silence. He was stiff, hands in fists.

Jaskier blinked, once. “Um, okay,” he said. “About what?”

“I - I really don’t care about your being human,” he started, and Jaskier felt a sinking feeling in his gut. “Or… I thought I didn’t, but… Jaskier, when I saw you like that, bleeding and… well, I felt _I_ was the one dying. You should’ve seen me,” he breathed out through his nose, “you would’ve made fun of me, no doubt.”

Jaskier nodded, quiet and waiting.

“I’ve loved before,” he continued, “but that - _that_ was a new feeling and it was terrifying. I was… when I met Yen, I was relieved because finally there was a person like me. I never worried about her dying. I never worried about not seeing her again.”

Jaskier looked away, closed his eyes against the sting of his tears.

“With you, that’s all I’ll ever have, isn’t it?” he continued, quieter. Jaskier bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted copper, suppressing a sob. “The worry, the fear, that one wrong move will be the end of you. You’re - ”

“Weak?” he supplied with a wet laugh.

Geralt leaned toward him and he wanted to pull away, but he couldn’t. He pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s temple, taking a deep breath. “You’re vulnerable,” he whispered. “I can’t protect you. I can’t - ” his voice almost broke, and it felt like a shard of glass through Jaskier’s heart “ - I can’t keep you _safe_.”

“That’s not your job,” he whispered back.

Geralt smiled sadly, ruefully. “You say that, but… my heart thinks differently.”

“Geralt,” he said, swallowing a sob. He pulled back, just a little, and peered into his eyes. Yellow and open, and so honest. Geralt saved those looks for him. “What - what does this mean, then?” he asked, dreading the answer. “For us?”

He leaned forward again and kissed his forehead, right above his brow. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to. Jaskier’s cheeks were wet with tears. Geralt brushed a few away with his thumb.

“I’ll go,” he said softly. “You should rest.”

Jaskier watched, silent, as Geralt stood up and walked to the door. He looked back at him, opened his mouth, like he was going to say something before deciding against it. Turning away, he opened the door and left. Jaskier let out a sudden, sharp sob and buried his face in his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> if u enjoy my fics please check out:  
> korrmin.tumblr.com/writing


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